


Shake a Leg

by rider_break97



Series: Dear Evan Hansen College Omorashi Stuff [1]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: (oh my god they were roommates), College, Desperation, Dorms, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, M/M, Omorashi, Paruresis, Pee-shyness, Roommates, There's lots of pee, Understanding, Wetting, kind of an AU, pee desperation, pee holding, peeing, supportive jared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-25 15:26:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18577267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rider_break97/pseuds/rider_break97
Summary: It's Evan's first year of college, and he hasn't exactly figured out how to pee while his roommate and family-friend, Jared Kleinman, is home.





	Shake a Leg

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what else to say about this one, I had to pee, I wanted to write, I had this idea. So here you go. Hope you enjoy.

Evan sits at his desk, leg shaking, hands twitching, tapping rhythmically on his laptop as the empty Word document sits in front of him. He’s been working on—or rather, trying to work on—this essay for two hours now, and he hasn’t written a single word. He just can’t concentrate.

He shifts in his seat, and adjusts his desk lamp so it sits exactly in the corner of the desk. His leg can’t stop shaking, won’t stop shaking, needs to stop shaking but it refuses. The sounds of typing from the other side of the room fill the silence like water in a glass. A very, very full glass. A glass so unbearably full it’s just about overflowing.

Evan’s right hand balls up into a fist, clenches so tightly his knuckles turn white. He keeps side-eyeing his roommate Jared, who’s been sitting at his desk for just as long as Evan has, working on a similar essay. His squirming is starting to get out of control, and Evan can’t help but chastise himself. Just a little bit.

I mean, seriously, he should be over this by now. He’s been at university for two months now, he should be able to use their bathroom with him in the room by this point. And he _knows_ Jared. They’ve been friends—family friends—since grade school. You’d think he be comfortable enough around him to use the bathroom around him by now, right? Maybe it was Jared’s standoffish (read: dickish) nature, but Evan just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

One of Evan’s deciding factors when picking a school to transfer to from the community college was whether or not its dorms had private bathrooms. His anxiety makes it next to impossible to use public restrooms. He’s tried getting over his pee-shyness before, but it’s like a gate that just slams shut in his penis whenever he knows there are other people around.

A couple of the schools he’d looked at were really nice, except their dorms had communal bathrooms, and they were too far away for him to just stay at home and commute. Theoretically, he could have stayed at home with this school, too, but he’s saved up some money over the two years he’d worked at the Pottery Barn (what else did he have to spend his money on anyway?), and his mom insisted. They didn’t have the money to send him to school on their own, but after snagging a couple scholarships through writing competitions, they could pull out some loans to cover the rest. (Yay, student debt!)

Mom had encouraged him to try and be more independent, and said living in the dorms would be a great way to do that. Evan is sorely regretting going along with this now. He shoves a hand between his legs and squeezes his knees together. He’s had to pee since lunch, and he’s not sure how much longer he can make it.

Evan has a system, a schedule of sorts. Wake up at 8. Shower. Pee, in the shower. Change, in the bathroom, and brush his teeth. Breakfast at 8:30, class from 9 to 11. Lunch at 12, then a quick stop at his dorm to pee, since he knew Jared was in class from 12 to 1:30. Class again at 3, back to the dorms to work on homework at 4:30. Shower again at 9, and be in bed by 10.

He could usually get in a pee break during his homework session while Jared was in class at 5. But now, it’s 6:30. Jared’s class was canceled, and instead of hanging out with friends or hell, even going to the _library_ to work on this essay, he has to stay cooped up in his room like an introvert. And the soda Evan had at lunch is _really_ catching up to him right now. His leg is shaking so hard it’s starting to rock the desk.

“Dude, can you stop?” Jared asks.

“Sorry,” Evan chokes out. “I can’t help it. It’s-it’s-it’s an anxiety thing. Sorry,” he adds again. He uses his free hand—the one that’s not shoved between his legs being pretty much the only barrier between his bladder and a very soaked pair of boxers—to press down on his vibrating leg, hoping it will help with his trembling. It doesn’t.

“It’s distracting,” says Jared. “I’ve really gotta get this essay done. It’s due tomorrow.”

“M-m-maybe you should go to the library, then. M-much quieter there.”

“Or maybe you could just stop shaking your fucking leg.”

“O-okay, yeah. Sorry. Yeah, I’ll try.”

But try as he might, Evan just can’t stop shaking. He has to go _so badly_. And there was still another two and a half hours before his shower, the only time Evan ever feels comfortable peeing while his roommate is home. The sounds of the running water from the shower masks the sound of his stream.

And it’s not like he can take a shower _early_. That’d be weird! Jared would know that he’s just using the shower as an excuse for something. Though, knowing Jared, he’d probably think Evan was jerking off in there. Which is an entirely separate issue that he still hasn’t worked out the logistics on.

After a few more failed attempts to get his leg to stop bouncing, Jared’s just about had it, it seems. He slams his hands down on his desk, startling Evan just enough that he feels a little bit of pee escape.

“Dude, enough! I’m trying to concentrate.”

Given that momentary release, Evan’s muscles are struggling to keep up. The floodgates were opened, and now they’re swinging around like a set of saloon doors. Open. Closed. Open. Closed. Open. Closed. Evan whimpers, throwing his other hand down, clenching his dick with both hands, desperately trying to stop the flow.

But it’s too late. Evan watches himself in horror as his jeans get darker and darker, warm wetness streaking down his leg and dribbling onto the floor, soiling his socks. He can’t even look at Jared. His eyes well up with tears that he tries to blink away, but can’t, so he just ends up squeezing his eyes shut, feeling the burning behind his eyelids and he struggles, fighting to get his bladder muscle under control.

“I’m sorry,” Evan whimpers, barely audible. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Finally, he opens one eye to look at Jared. He’s staring at him, mouth agape. But he doesn’t look angry, or like he’s going to make fun of him. He just looks concerned.

“I’m sorry,” Evan repeats.

“Dude,” Jared says. “How long have you been holding all that in?”

_All_ that? Evan looks back down at his jeans, which are now completely soaked through. A deep, yellow puddle sits around his chair like a castle moat. He _does_ feel pleasantly empty now. No more pressure in his lower abdomen, no more pain in his dick, no more bouncing leg. He looks back up at Jared. “Since lunch. Around 12:30 or so.”

“ _Six hours?_ ” Jared says. “Jesus, no wonder you were shaking your leg so bad. Why didn’t you just go to the bathroom?”

“I…couldn’t.” Even feels a wave of shame and embarrassment ripple through him. He couldn’t use the bathroom. He couldn’t hold it. He can’t do _anything_ right, can he?

“You couldn’t?”

Evan nods. “I have a…a thing…About peeing around other people.”

“It’s not like I’d be standing there watching you, dude. You wouldn’t be peeing _around_ me.”

“I-I know! I know…but…I don’t know, it just…doesn’t work that way for me, I guess. It’s got to do with my anxiety.”

“Dude, why didn’t you _say_ something?”

Evan shrugs. “I was embarrassed, I guess.”

Jared sighs and gets up from his desk. He goes into the bathroom and retrieves a dark blue towel, tossing it over to Evan. “Here, use this to clean yourself up, and dry up some of that puddle. I’ll get another one.”

“But this is your towel,” Evan says. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Well, yeah, I’m gonna wash it, dumbass.”

“No, I know, but—”

“Just clean up your mess,” Jared says. But it’s not as harsh as it usually is coming from him. He comes out of the bathroom with another towel and kneels down next to Evan, wiping up the massive puddle of pee that sits around him.

“I’m sorry,” Evan says.

“I know, dude. I’m sorry I made it get this far.”

“N-no! It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah,” Jared says, and looks up at him. “But it’s not yours either.”

Evan feels his face getting hotter, as Jared stares into his eyes from over his glasses. What is this…electricity…flowing between them?

Jared smiles, and returns his attention to mopping up the urine. “God, this is gonna stink so bad,” he says, laughing slightly.

“I’m sorry,” Evan says, using the towel Jared gave him to pat dry his pants. He should probably take these off, but the thought of stripping down in front of Jared is just as horrific as the thought of using the bathroom around him.

“You don’t need to keep apologizing,” Jared says. “I get it.”

“Thanks,” Evan says, though it’s barely audible with how shy and embarrassed he’s feeling right now.

“But hey, think about it this way,” Jared says. “You just pissed in front of me. So you should have no problem doing it in the future.”

Evan’s lips curve into a shy half-smile. “I guess.”

“And I’ll try to be more observant from now on,” he continues. “If I notice you starting to get fidgety, I can leave the room or something so you can go pee.”

“God, that would be _so great_ ,” Evan sighs, and Jared laughs.

“Go on and shower, I can finish cleaning this up.”

“But it’s not time for my shower yet.”

“Dude you are covered in piss. If you don’t shower right now, I’m going to kick you out of this room for stinking up the place.”

Fair enough. “What about your essay?”

Jared smiles at him, standing up and throwing the piss-soaked towel into his laundry basket. “You’re more important. Always have been, always will be.”


End file.
